The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1887-09-21

His cabin was thoroughly searched
while this scene was enacted, but moth
ing was found worth taking away; and
when the military outlaws rode of,
after firing the cabin, they left its oc-
cupant senseless on the ground.
Others who had been piundered or
injured bodily by these raiders had
friends; in the whole village Moses
Dimock had not one. He was more Of
an outcast than before. An opinion
prevailed through the village that the
recluse had lost all his hoardings; and
it must be said that the people were
generally pleased to believe it.
The poor old man became pitiable
object to behold. He wandered aim
lessly about the village, unkempt and
ragged. Where he slept, what he ate.
nobody knew-nor cared. His hands
twitched with palsy. His eye was dull;
his walk feeble and vacillating. In
less than year from the time of the
raid, he entirely lost his speech. 1t
was generally believed that the terrors
of that night when he was bound, tor
tured and threatened with death be-
fore his blazing home, had given him q
shock, both mental and physical, from
which he would never recover.
Wandering about one night, home
less, friendless and helpless, Dimock
fell exhausted on the steps of Robert
| Winslow's dwelling. The owner of
at one time, and had seen such suffer
ing as only soldiers see. Upon his dis
charge he had resumed work as a me-
chanic, and with wife and three
children to support, was sorely pressed
by poverty, Yet the charity of the
poor and lowly is not only the
sweetest, but the most fire.
quent; and when Winslow.
hearing the noise of the old mans fall
upon the steps, came to the door, he
was moved with compassion at the
sight. He took the outcast in his arms,
and brought him into the house.
The narrative need not be prolonged.
Until his death, which happened ten
months later, Moses Dimock found
shelter, food, and kind attention in
this house. He was entirely helpless.
He could not speak at all his hands
shook so with palsy that he could
neither write nor feed himself; and he
DCCuihC oO iOCpiC ohc idob Wcchb VI
his life that he had to be lifted and car
ried like an infant. But the good vet
eran and his wife persevered in their
charitable work, spite of their poverty,
and Notwithstanding the rather heart
less comments of some of tLeir neigh
bors. That the old man was deeply
grateful for all this kindness was
plainly to be seen from his face. And
then his efforts to speak were so ear
nest and so vain that they were pain
full to behold.
But when he came to die, his voice
for one minute came back to him; and
this is what he said:
God love you, dear souls, for your
kindness. You know how L have
struggled for speech; you do not know
how l have silently prayed that !
might in some way have the power to
tell you my secret. When the news
came thet the raiders were on the way
l buried my gold-ten thousand dol
lars of it-under the stone doorstep Of
the cabin. Then 1 foolishly stayed
behind to watch it. They tortured me,
they threatened me, they left me al
most dead, but L never gave up the
secret. The gold is there now, and it
is all yours; if it were ten times as
much you would deserve it."
So the old miners gold came to the
worthy veteran, Robert Winslow.